Trigger Warning
by ParamoreXO
Summary: Love, he knows, is an unbearable flirt with duty.


**Title:** Trigger Warning

**Rating:** K+

**Word Count: **759

**Character Dynamics: **Artemis, Kaldur, slight mention of Spitfire, Mount Justice feels

**Summary: **Love, he knows, is an unbearable flirt with duty.

* * *

**At first, it's not quite obvious.** Artemis had broken into this lifestyle by brutal force and manipulation long before he had become a part of Black Manta's legion, so it didn't surprise Kaldur when he finally realized that the matter at hand had been ongoing for over a week. She was, after all, a master assassin. Emotional interference was something that should _never _fit the job description.

"Something troubles you," he tells her one night while unwinding in his sub. After spending the entire night following a false lead, Artemis retired to his bed chamber immediately after they had returned, not bothering to wait up for him after Black Manta's usual summons for a mission debriefing. He finds her sitting on the edge of his bed, distractedly plucking at the plain fabric of his comforter with her gaze concentrated on her fingers. She doesn't bother to look up at him.

After placing his helmet down on the steely bedside table, he sits down beside her with the weight of his dented armor, but she still refuses to acknowledge his words. After moments of stifled silence, he notices that she's not merely picking at the sheeting of the bed. Between curled fingers, she clenches the stitchery, slowly drawing back until she loses her grip, then deliberately repeats the motions all over again. He's watched her do this on countless occasions. She's imitating the movements of shooting an arrow.

Suddenly, she grips a handful of the material until her knuckles bleach bloodless, words escaping her mouth in a strangled pitch. "I'm just thinking, Kaldur. About… about Wally."

His ribs seem to shrink, relentlessly closing in on his lungs, and his suit feels more leaden than ever. Love, he knows, is an unbearable flirt with duty.

Artemis shifts her weight to face him, luring his eyes to her intense gaze. "I pressed down that button, Kaldur. _I'm_ the one who clicked the trigger."

It takes him a moment to decipher exactly what she's referring to, but the guilt that's pooling in her eyes makes it all too easy for him to figure out. He opens his mouth to settle the matter, but she still has more to say, and she's insistent.

"I know we gave them time, that they had a chance… but _someone_ had to have gotten caught in the debris." Releasing her grip on the bedding, she reclines backwards, grinding her knuckles into the mind stabbing pain in her temples until she's lying down. Kaldur doesn't follow suit, nor does he glance back. Simply, he zeroes in on the scarlet smattering of blood that's drying over her boots, trying to remember which weapon of hers had caused the bloodshed. Sure, she had been raised to kill. He knews that much. He hadn't, however, expected her to know how to kill in so many ways…

It's not like she'll let him get a word in edgewise, anyways.

"They were in danger, Kal, and Wally isn't going to let that slide."

_Ah_. So that's what this is about.

"He does not know that you—"

"But _I did_, Kaldur. I blew it up. I destroyed _the whole damn mountain_." Her tone is dangerously level and coated with ice. The frost of it nips at his conscious and, oddly enough, it _burns_.

He's at a loss as to how to comfort her.

Sitting up, Artemis snatches up her mask from beside her and, before she can lift it to her face, she stares at it while it rests idly her lap. "I am focused, Kaldur. I know that all of this is necessary, but… it's been hard for me to readjust to this lifestyle."

"I know," he states with intended firmness, but an old sentiment softens it to a low murmur.

Getting up to leave for her own quarters, she reaches up to secure her mask and allows a hand to fall to his cheek, cupping it lightly. "Goodnight, Kaldur."

Her touch is brief, and it feels like a slap to the face. He turns away from her before he can stop himself, jolting back at the contact while something like shame and neglect cause a burst of blood to rush to his heating visage.

Everything stings. Even the beat of his heart. It all hurts.

Letting her arm fall back to her side, Artemis stares at him a second longer before she exits through the sliding door. It seals shut with a hiss, blocking out the click of her heels, and then he's alone.

He's not sure he could mend this, anyways.


End file.
